#anyway my rule of thumb for shipping is

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

back when yesterday's lie came out and vee was introduced as camila's new kid the ship huntric was still popular. and i didn't ship it and generally had and still have an aversion to shipping hunter with any character but i thought about how funny it would be luz and her siblings all dated a blight. so for a little while there i also shipped vee and emira specifically bc the triple wedding would have been hilarious lmao

[k1tty5]

hello :D please tell me more about your mezalian (is that how you spell it??) smalletho I will forever be indebted to you

(they are gorgeous I love them sm)

hey hi !! it would be my pleasure … (and I’ve been spelling it mezalean ??? but i have no idea LOL. there might be a canon spelling but i havent watched joels esmp1 since… probably since it ended. i will have to check sometime)

apologizing in advance because i will probably get very ramble-y!!

ummm. Oh god. How to start. Lets see. WELL. In this silly little au (i guess it has become a bit more than just me doodling designs LOL) in my head they have like this sort of zelink dynamic? obviously without all the zelda lore & stuff, just that kind of … okay forgive me I haven’t brushed up on my zelink lore for a good many years but. Like the princess and her personal knight that doesn’t really talk much sort of thing.

this made more sense in my head. But yeah. They have the vibes of zelink ? At least if i remember zelink right, I have a really bad memory :’) not exactly the same, i do think etho talks to joel (whereas if iirc link never really talks) - especially after getting to know him a bit - but just. they have the Vibes. You know?

I reckon Joel’s definitely very into sculpting in this au, maybe dabbles a little in painting - I imagine mezalea to be very heavy on art and expression in general. think you’d especially see lots of pottery and textiles all around the place. He probably also has an interest in some form of like. um. whats the word. Some sort of … fighting. lmao. Specifically thinking of fencing, i had this idea in my head that he’s watched Etho practice outside the palace at some point and is just absolutely fascinated and enamored. by both the practice and etho himself haha.

and for etho… talented swordsman? he is Not washed. i dont really have many ideas for his character in this au To be completely honest, mostly just of his personality. Although, I alsooo think he’s probably not actually from mezalea? I like to draw him with those pointy elf ears, and i think mezaleans are just humans. I cant remember if thats canon or not but um. mezaleans have human ears, so i’d imagine etho’s probably from like.. rivendelle? Is that. What it’s called. The elf guys? Are they elves??? Goodness I cant remember. Grimlands would make sense too since i THINK they’re kind of like. technical engineer guys? but i dont know what species they are um so ,,, yeah,,,,

i think joel’s probably a bit put off by etho at first, mostly just because he’s not super enthused about the idea of a personal guard, but also because the guys a bit odd, you know? but he’s also probably suuuper intrigued by him. he wants to figure this new guy out, and when they start talking a bit more, i think. They are both incredibly charmed by the other. head over heels? possibly.

most of my ideas of this au are just little scenes that are cute and silly but dont follow any main plot. I would love to write some one-shots of some of the ideas i have in the future, but as of right now im experiencing a bout of creative burnout and am busy with the holidays - spending time with family, so… not right now lol!

hopefully this is what you wanted,,,, i tend to get very ramble-y when talking about literally anything, so i do apologize for that haha, i am Not good at explaining things in simple ways, as i’ve said many a time before.

[camgoloud]

kind of thinking about signing up for fandom trumps hate this year but this would be in spite of the fact that i've only written like 2 fics for exchanges in the last year. do people who follow me here even remember that i used to write stuff. anyway if i did sign up would someone promise to bid 5 dollars on me so i wouldn't have to be embarrassed about it

[stormyrainyday]

rain use a consistent tagging system to find ur posts challenge level impossible

for my own reference, we have

genshin genshin impact, [character] genshin impact, genshin impact fanart (if applicable), ship name (if applicable

ex. fanart of baizhu would be #baizhu genshin impact, #genshin impact, #genshin impact fanart, #zhongzhu

stardew valley stardew valley, [character] stardew valley

ex. #stardew valley, #sam stardew valley

beyblade beyblade, beyblade metal fight/x/burst, beyblade burst [season, because theres SO MANY], [character full name, given then family], [character] beyblade (if no full name available)

ex. #beyblade, #beyblade burst, #beyblade burst turbo, #fubuki sumiye

legend of zelda the legend of zelda, [game name], [character] the legend of zelda, [character] game name

ex. #the legend of zelda, #majoras mask, #anju legend of zelda, #anju majoras mask

blue lock, fruits basket, etc. blue lock, [character full name, family then given]

ex. #blue lock, #bachira meguru

slay the princess slay the princess, [route]

ex. #slay the princess, #happily ever after

books [book], [series (if applicable, and not the same title as the book)], [character full name (if available)], [character] [series] (if full name unavailable), [ship name (if applicable)]

ex. #the hollow boy, #lockwood and co, #anthony lockwood, #lucy carlyle, #lucewood

med school yaps - #hashtag med school chronicles. occasionally #medblr

misc yaps - #from rain

[talesofesther]

something worth losing

Neve Gallus x Rook

Summary: Neve didn't ask for much. She didn't ask for attention or for people to stick with her. Yet one taste from Rook got her yearning to bend her own rules and ask, anyway.

A/N: I love them so much. They're gonna be the death of me, I swear. Another little moment between my two babies, this time with a little more personal touch regarding my Rook. <3

Masterlist

"Venhedis", Neve hissed through her teeth, instinctively scrunching her brow when the sharp pain bit at her skin and regretting it soon after, as the motion only worsened her predicament.

Neve had snuck into the dining room of the Lighthouse, where she knew a small mirror lay forgotten on the counter beside the stove. She could have gone to Bellara's room, no shortage of mirrors there, but Neve knew the elf was working on her archive and she didn't want to bring unnecessary worry.

Because, Neve was trying to take off the stitches closing the wound on her forehead.

They needed to come off, Neve decided this morning. The wound she had gotten when she followed Rook to the heart of Solas' ritual was almost healed, even the black and blues around her eye were barely visible anymore, so she figured the stitches could go too.

A mistake, maybe. The small mirror Neve used as her guide wasn't much help, as her fingers accidentally tugged and twisted the small stitches in ways they weren't supposed to go. Her skin around the healing scar started to turn a bit red, still quite sensitive and now hurting because of Neve's less-than-gentle ministrations.

The mage huffed, sitting back on her stool and dropping her hands to her lap. A soft crackle coming from the ever-burning fire of the hearth caught Neve's attention, it bathed the dining room in warm tones of yellow and orange, reflecting against pans and porcelain plates.

It was still a bit of a mystery to her; why she had so promptly and willingly followed Rook into a dangerous ritual upon knowing the woman for no longer than a couple hours back then. Neve spoke of delivering a job well done, and while that was true, she had a feeling she'd have done the same regardless.

Neve picked at her nails, pointer finger to thumb, scraping the teal color—another thing that bothered her since then, she was usually better at keeping it neat.

Rook had a dangerous pull to her, something alluring. It beckoned Neve closer like a lighthouse did to lost ships drifting through tempestuous seas.

Neve pushed the feeling away and stored it in her heart's 'best ignored' drawer. Or she tried to.

The heavy dining room doors were pushed open, disrupting the silence, and in walked the subject of her troubles.

Rook had a whole apple held in her mouth, as the doors closed behind her again, she brought a hand up to hold the fruit, taking a bite out of it. The corner of her eyes scrunched with a smile when she spotted Neve sitting by the corner.

"Skipping dinner, Rook?" Neve teased in lieu of a greeting, a smirk to her lips.

Rook raised a finger as she swallowed, walking up to Neve. "Actually, I was just about to start making dinner." She left her apple on the counter beside Neve and leaned her hip against it. Her hair was damp, half of it haphazardly tied back. Her clothes were casual, even more so than usual; a blue shirt with a few buttons undone, sleeves a little too long almost covering her hands.

Neve hummed. The image of Rook like that—soft and ever so casual under the warm light of the fire, with an easy smile and pinkish cheeks from a recent hot bath—got Neve's heart stumbling in ways it shouldn't. She forced her eyes away. "Then I might be the one to skip dinner today."

"Hey," Rook grumbled in the same beat, crossing her arms over her chest as a stubborn child would, "I'm a decent cook."

"By whose standards?" Neve raised a brow, there was a playful edge to her voice, "I'm not sure the undead count as a valid opinion."

Rook rolled her eyes, but wasn't able to fight the grin stretching her lips. "Alright, it's not like I had that many options to practice with back in the Necropolis. But,"—her eyes lit up rather pridefully—"Lucanis has been introducing me to some Trevisan culinary, and says I'm a natural."

Neve chuckled, a quiet little thing as she averted her gaze back to her lap, where she fidgeted with the small scissors she'd been using to try and fail to cut her stitches earlier. For some reason, the thought of Rook spending time with Lucanis, alone, caused a bitter and heavy twist to Neve's chest. The smile on her lips faltered and faded, and she was glad her loose hair shielded her from Rook's attentive eyes.

Neve felt more than saw the way Rook walked around her, stepping closer, near the stove and the forgotten mirror lying beside it.

"What are you up to, anyway?" Rook asked, picking up the small mirror for a moment and putting it down again—always so antsy. She added, softer; "Hiding from the wisps?"

With a clearing of her throat, Neve schooled her expression back to something nonchalant and raised her gaze. "No, I…" She gestured to the stitches and scar on her forehead with a careless shrug, "I was trying to get these off." A humorless laugh. "Not much luck though."

Rook followed the motion, instinctively taking half a step closer to Neve; and with the detective still sitting on the tall stool, Rook was almost standing between her legs.

Neve gulped at the sudden proximity, feeling a little trapped, a little too hot. Her heart picked up pace and beat loudly in her ears.

"Oh," Rook whispered. She raised a hand before her brain could catch up with her actions, and Neve held her breath when the warmth of Rook's skin was just shy of touching her.

But Rook reeled herself in before it, blinking a couple of times. She lowered her hand and took a step back again, shifting on her feet. The air became something heavy between the two women, almost electrical.

"I could help, if you'd like." There was a timidness to Rook's voice that hadn't been there before, a deeper pink blush beneath the crooked scar across her cheek.

It was a peculiar thing, that scar, starting from behind Rook's chocolate-colored hair and ending just past her lower lip. When Neve caught herself stealing a glance at the end of it, she reasoned it was just curiosity at how such a mark came to be. There were others too, sometimes when Rook had a button or two of her blouse undone—like now, despite Neve trying not to think too deeply on it—bigger and harsher scars could be spotted, seemingly the same on each side of her chest and going lower on her stomach until it disappeared.

And Neve stared at Rook, eyebrows softly furrowing, as if she was a mystery for the detective to solve. A daunting case bound to end in disaster; she had always been a sucker for those.

Neve had taken small notes about each member of their team—a habit that came with the territory and she couldn't shake. Rook's was the one containing the most lines, and a small inquiry about the origin of her scars was among them.

Maybe someday she'd solve it.

Perhaps a little too late, Neve realized she still hadn't answered. Rook looked at her patiently though. Neve shook her head, feeling her cheeks warm up. "It's alright, you don't have to."

An unreadable expression clouded Rook's gaze then; as if taken back to a memory. "It's my fault you got that scar in the first place," Rook's voice became too gentle for Neve's liking. It was dangerous, when Rook spoke to her as if Neve was worth caring for.

Just as quickly, Rook's easy smile came back. "The least I can do is help you take care of it now."

A beat or two passed as Neve weighed her options. Rook offered a tempting bargain, and it was ever so difficult to tell her no.

Just like when Neve's smile gets a little too loose each time Rook makes those terrible puns and jokes, and she can't help but laugh anyway, because it's Rook who said them.

"Alright," Neve shrugged, trying to make light of a situation that had already caused her blood to pump faster and her mouth to go dry, "Suit yourself."

Wordlessly, Rook wiggled her fingers, asking for the scissors Neve still held. She placed it upon her hand and Rook stepped closer.

This time, Neve allowed her to stand between her legs. She was engulfed in the warmth of Rook's presence, hyperaware of a proximity that was foreign territory for both of them. Her hands closed into fists, and teal nails carved half-moons on her palms.

The moment had a sort of intimacy to it that it shouldn't have. Rook reached for Neve, but her hand lingered by the detective's cheek, just shy of touching. "May I?"

The consideration for her feelings made Neve's stomach flutter with butterflies. For the first time, she didn't trust her voice, not when Rook was standing so close, being so gentle. Neve simply nodded.

Only then did Rook's fingers finally found Neve. She brushed dark strands of hair aside, bringing them behind Neve's ear with a type of tenderness Neve had forgotten the feeling of—Rook didn't have to, she did anyway. She then took hold of Neve's jaw, holding her steady in place while she moved to ever so carefully cut through the stitches and pull them loose.

Neve's eyes dropped close against her better judgment, she couldn't fight the way she leaned into Rook's touch either. Neve hardly felt when the stitches were removed, focusing instead on the shape and warmth of Rook's hand against her skin—how Rook absentmindedly moved her thumb back and forth by the corner of her mouth, in a soothing motion, taking Neve's mind off any slight pain she might feel.

It didn't mean anything, couldn't mean anything; Neve insisted on telling herself. Rook was only helping her, nothing more.

It was done. But still, Rook refused to move away. Her hand lingered, holding onto Neve, and for some reason, Neve let her.

The touch moved up. Rook's fingers traced the outlines of the new scar etched onto Neve's forehead. She kept going until she reached the arch of Neve's eyebrow and then the crinkle at the corner of her eye. Exploring, mapping, keeping. As if Rook wanted to carve the shape of Neve's features into her memory.

Neve shuddered under the gesture, as if stars were dancing across her skin. Her throat closed up and held her breath hostage until her lungs ached and then some. Oh, this was dangerous. The tender look in Rook's eyes spelled trouble, the care she held Neve with would be her undoing.

There was a soft furrow on Rook's brows, like caught in a trance, not fully aware of what she was doing or how it caused Neve's heart to seek a new home outside her ribcage.

"Rook…" It bordered on being a whimper, all breathless and teary and desperate. And Neve almost grimaced at the sound of her own voice. Pleading, though she wasn't sure what for.

In the same breath, Rook let go of her, perhaps quicker than Neve would've liked her to. A soft gasp of surprise fell past Rook's lips, her eyes somewhat apologetic.

But that's what Neve wanted, wasn't it? Safety, distance?

Neve tried to tell herself 'yes'. It was a lie.

Neve didn't ask for much. She didn't ask for attention or for people to stick with her. Yet one taste from Rook got her yearning to bend her own rules and ask, anyway.

Rook cleared her throat, gaze shifting between countertops and porcelain plates, nowhere near Neve. Her fingers tapped the side of her thigh in an unsteady rhythm, Neve caught it with a glance.

The silence was loud, thick with unsaid words and actions that spoke better than such. The detective was rarely out of words or a good quip, but right now, her tongue was tied. All she could hear was the thundering of her own heart.

Ever so slowly, Rook raised her gaze. Their eyes met then, and Neve knew she should have looked away, but didn’t. Questions hung, stretched out in the space between them.

What is this? What are we doing?

Do you feel it too?

None knew the answers.

"All done." Rook was the first to speak, a touch of hesitance to her words and the way she fidgeted with her hands.

Neve felt her skin prickle. She clenched and unclenched her hands, slick with perspiration. A beat passed, and she stood up from her stool, smoothing out her pants in an attempt to dry her hands. "Thanks… Rook."

Before Neve did something she would certainly regret, she gave Rook a tight-lipped smile and turned to walk away.

Neve was halfway to the doors when Rook asked, all hopeful and chipper; "See you at dinner?"

Neve had read it once, maybe it was on one of Bellara's serials. A tale of a warrior and his maiden, who were always forced apart; yet each time they said goodbye and had to walk away from each other, they would look back over their shoulders, until they couldn't see the other anymore; looking back to the one they hoped to return to.

Neve stopped in her steps with one last click of her prosthetic on the stone floor.

How dangerous it would be, to have something worth coming back to. To have something worth losing.

For several beats, the only sound was the crackling of the fireplace.

Neve looked back and over her shoulder, her chest tightening when she caught the way Rook's lips stretched in a gentle smile.

"I wouldn't miss it."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

"Something worth losing" means a person, thing, or idea that is so valuable to you that even if you were to lose it, the potential pain of that loss would still be justified because of how much it means to you; essentially, it signifies something precious enough that the risk of losing it is worth taking.

Neve's taglist is open, let me know if you'd like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[perseephoneee]

first time w/ Benedict Bridgerton pretty please 🙈 for your kinktober

kinktober 3 (benedict bridgerton x f!reader)

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ kinktober masterlist

content warnings: more of a drabble, public place, unprotected, sex before marriage (gasp!)

a/n: so you're probably wondering where i went! the gist is last week one of my best friends texted me that she wanted to talk but then postponed the talk for several days later (so i spent all of the week in anxiety). when we finally did talk, it was for her to say that she a) wasn't interested in hearing from me and b) that she wouldn't offer explanations and then basically broke up with me :) so I've spent most of the past several days sobbing. anyway, this is short and I'll be uploading prompt 4 as well today.

You were never good at following the rules. If you were, Benedict probably would’ve never noticed you, and you wouldn’t be in this situation. If you hadn’t been stealing food off of plates and sticking your tongue out at noblewomen as they turned away, Benedict wouldn’t have found you amusing and sought you out. You both wouldn’t have entered into a tenuous friendship and wouldn’t find yourself in a dark room with the second eldest Bridgerton, kissing like your life depended on it.

You were a scandal waiting to happen, that you were aware, but you couldn’t seem to care. His lips tasted of champagne, and his hands were gripping your waist, one dropping down to bunch up the skirts of your dress. He brought your leg up, letting himself press closer. There wasn’t a part of you that wasn’t touching, yet you yearned for more.

“Ben,” you breathed, breaking apart. “Take off my gown.” Benedict paused, looking at you with caution. “Are you sure? You’re an unmarried woman—”

“Who you have pulled into a dark room to fornicate with, we are past the pleasantries of society, and all I want is you,” you said, brushing your thumb over his cheek, your expression softening. “If you still want me, that is.”

“Darling,” Benedict grinned. “You’re all I want.”

He kissed you again, so much more tender than the fiery passion of before. He spun you around, making quick work of your gown and corset so you were left in your undergarments. Your fingers trembled as you undid his jerkin and tunic, but he covered your hand with his and helped you. You breathed out as his skin was revealed to you. You leaned in, kissing over his collarbone and the column of his throat. You felt Benedict take in a deep breath, hands grasping your hair as you kissed his neck. You started to resent that women were denied such a pleasure until marriage. Benedict pulled your head back, kissing you again, all tongue and teeth. You sighed, so lost in him that you weren’t fully aware of his hand bunching up your slip and brushing over your clothed mound.

“Drenched already,” Benedict chuckled. Your heart was beating fast as fingers dipped beneath the fabric. You let out a choked sound as he touched parts of you that had never been caressed that way before. Benedict helped hold you up as you felt yourself melt in his arms, the circular motions of his fingers sending tingles throughout your body. He lightly pushed a finger inside of you, going slowly as you adjusted to the foreign feeling. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you panted, Benedict caressing every inch of you as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, and you were overwhelmed as a sudden feeling crashed over you. Everything in your body tightened and crested. You bit down on Benedict’s shoulder as you came, muffling the cry of his name for fear of someone finding you. He slowed, and when he removed his fingers, licking them clean with a wink, you recognized that there was never going to be anyone else for you than him. He brushed some of the loose hair away from your face. “Do you still want me?”

“Yes, very much so,” you sighed, lungs still remembering how to breathe. Benedict undid the ties on his trousers, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. You let the wall hold your weight as he carefully pushed into you, letting out a shaky breath in the process. You bit your lip as you got used to the feeling of him, and he was kind enough not to move until you were ready. As he felt your muscles relax around him, he started to push in and out of you slowly. Benedict buried his face in your neck, whispering praises as he tried to control himself from taking you too roughly. You gripped his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tried to stifle your moans. When you came the second time, it was much more sudden, and you wrapped yourself around Benedict so you wouldn’t fall, fall, fall. Benedict came soon after you, cursing softly as you felt yourself become infinitely full. You loathed when he had to separate from you, kissing your forehead and cheek with the softness of a lover.

“I should probably ask for your hand in marriage now,” Benedict chuckled.

“Yes, I suppose you should, Lord Bridgerton,” you smiled coyly, kissing him so and feeling thankful that you wouldn’t be spending any more days without him.

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

Still be here in the morning?

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

Author's Note: This started off as a smut thing but became a whole story thing so enjoy ;D

It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.

You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.

"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.

"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.

"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"

"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."

"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"

"I'm aware."

"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."

"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."

"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"

Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"

You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."

"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."

"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."

After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.

To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.

He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.

A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.

"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.

"What do you want, Mouse?"

"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."

"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.

"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.

"Make me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.

"I said, make me, Lantsov."

"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.

Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.

"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.

"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.

"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."

Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.

"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.

Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."

He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.

He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.

He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."

His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.

Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."

"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.

He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.

Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.

Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.

"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.

Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.

You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.

You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.

Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.

His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.

"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.

"Why would I be mad?"

"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.

"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"

"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.

You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

You shook your head.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded your head.

"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"

You hesitated.

"Well, we've found our problem."

"You don't love me."

"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.

"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."

"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.

You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"

"Honey, you drive me wild."

You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.

You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.

A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."

You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.

fin.

[bestworstcase]

So, it should be obvious to anyone paying attention or taking this seriously by now that Whiterose isn't happening. And I mean, they wouldn't really fit with what the show is going for anyways, with romantic relationships, no Ozlem fractals and all that. But it does stick out like a sore thumb, that within RWBY and JNPR they're the only pair of partners where it's not a thing. And I'm curious if you make anything of it, from an out-of-universe perspective, on why that's the case?

well for one thing, i think the conceptual basis for any ship being "well the other three major character academic pairs developed into romantic interests" is a de facto admission of non-canonicity in itself, and betrays a fundamental disinterest in character and narrative. this is perhaps not surprising, as i'm given to understand people have been shipping wr literally since the color trailers, which is to say that the core appeal has always been aesthetics.

full disclosure, my personal feeling is that wr is "man and woman breathed near each other one time!?" for sapphics. it's gay ruby/jaune. the ship isn't sunk, it's dry-docked.

in that sense, the out-of-universe perspective i have to offer is: the difference between ruby/weiss and arkos / renora / the bees is that the latter three were written with romantic intent from the start whereas ruby and weiss were not. i'll grant the possibility that the academic pairings were an inelegant plot device motivated by that romantic intention, but i don't in fact believe that is the case because the one/two/four motif is such a thematic workhorse for the contortions and distortions of ozpin's psyche; i think pairing the romantic partners was at most a secondary consideration. in any case, there is no rule dictating that every academic pair must eventually kiss. that's nonsense.

now. in the more specific sense of "why do these two characters in particular not go together" i think there are two reasons.

first, it's narratively important for ruby to be isolated. she's two years younger and left all her friends behind to enroll in beacon early and her big sister isn't and can't be her mom anymore and she gets paired up with an academic overachiever who initially treats her like an idiot baby who doesn't deserve the responsibility she's been given. ruby surmounts each of these challenges by remaking herself into their serious, competent, trustworthy leader and crucially this does not address, but in fact reinforces, her alienation from the rest of the team.

second, both ruby and weiss are profoundly sheltered and lonely girls raised in environments, denied close relationships with anyone but their elder sisters whom they both grew to idolize, and became, in contrasting but fundamentally similar ways, really good at performing the "right" behaviors—ruby adopting a happy, carefree mask, weiss becoming an overachieving perfectionist obsessed with her family's honor.

the point is, a) neither have ever had a real, emotionally close friendship before, and b) both have a deeply-ingrained tendency to Perform To Expectation. in this i think it is instructive to compare the conflict and resolution between weiss and ruby vs weiss and blake:

blake directly and overtly challenges weiss on her awful behavior until the brick wall of regurgitated bigotry breaks down and weiss starts to talk about the real emotional pain behind that wall, and blake reveals her own secret and then flees in distress, with the result that weiss has to face and think about the pain she's caused to someone she cares about and actually reflect on things blake said to her for a while. and then when they come face-to-face again weiss stops blake from anxiously trying to apologize / explain / appease her and says no, i thought about it, i trust you, you don't owe me any of that. she doesn't say the words "i'm sorry" but her actions demonstrate real understanding and empathy for blake.

meanwhile her conflict with ruby tears down ruby's self-confidence, ultimately leaving ruby receptive to ozpin's extremely destructive advice, and ends because port dresses weiss down and lays out for her in plain terms that her envy and resentment reflect poorly on her, whereafter weiss commits to becoming "the best teammate [ruby will] ever have."

spot the difference. the conflict between weiss and blake fosters a deeper, lasting emotional connection between them chiefly because they're fighting with each other—there's this back-and-forth, give-and-take that drives a resolution from within. weiss has to reflect on herself and decide that what she believed about faunuskind is wrong. and the. she has to decide for herself how to make it right. but that's not what happens in the conflict between weiss and ruby! weiss is just being a bully and gets told by a teacher she respects to knock it off!

and then little miss overachieving perfectionist pivots to "i will be the perfect teammate!" while the lesson ruby takes from this experience, courtesy of ozpin, is that she deserved to be treated that way because she didn't take her duties as the team leader seriously enough. she puts on a happy face and pretends nothing hurts because that's who ruby is, but the resolution here is very much just papering over the cracks.

not to say that ruby and weiss aren't truly friends and don't care deeply for each other, because they are and they do, but the foundation of this friendship is very brittle. on the surface, they appear as virtually the platonic ideal of what huntsman academy partners are meant to be—an unlikely pair who overcame enormous personal differences to become inseparable comrades-in-arms—but that is in large part because ruby's skill in masking problems harmonizes so well with weiss's drive to be the perfect huntsman academy partner.

but they're really not that close! it's a meme at this point for wr shippers to bemoan the dearth of "moments" between ruby and weiss, but that is by design. these are two girls who've never had a really close friendship before performing close friendship with each other almost flawlessly until the wheels very suddenly and violently fall off in v9, whereupon weiss—who is otherwise an empathetic and emotionally insightful person—realizes this hollowness and reflects on her treatment of ruby just as she did with blake back in v1. her perfect partnership has been an emotional burden to ruby this whole time, and she has to face that head-on before it can be fixed.

i think they're probably headed for a serious "we're combat partners who fight well together and get along, but are we actually friends?" kind of reckoning that will undoubtedly resolve in the direction of building real closeness, because maybe they're not as close as they believed but they want to have that kind of friendship.

which is like. you know. interesting. the core problem i have with wr fanon and the general insistence in that contingent of the fandom is that the apparent ideal-partnership is Real and trust me, they're totally in love, we're just meant to understand that they're having heart-to-heart conversations and emotionally vulnerable moments with each other off-screen all the time, the complete absence of this in the text is only because the narrative doesn't have the time—as if the narrative hasn't carved out time for arkos and renora and the bees and ruby/oscar, as if it wasn't a deliberate choice to contrast weiss getting scolded for bullying ruby against weiss empathizing and sharing childhood traumas and deep fears and cherished aspirations with blake and yang. like. come on.

the point is that things were "resolved" between ruby and weiss by external pressures that did not foster any real understanding between them, and then nothing ever changed. weiss' friendships with blake and yang pushed her to grow, to mature, but until v9 she and ruby were coasting on that "good leader/perfect teammate" dynamic, stagnant for ruby and a blindspot for weiss.

and this is the narrative reason why ruby and weiss had to be paired during the initiation. looking at it through the lens of "pairing the romantic partners (and the sore thumb of ruby and weiss)" misses the forest for the shipper goggles tree: the academic pairings are the inciting incident for each main character arc. for jaune, it's the first stroke of the ozlem fractal and the tragedy that motivates the rest of his story. for ren and nora, it's the safety of a comfort zone they'll eventually need to leave. for blake and yang, it's finding each other for the first time. for weiss, it's the mistake that will fester until it comes back to bite her to put all her growth in the interim to the test. for ruby, it's the painful experience that pushes her to take on self-sacrificial heroism as her duty.

it's just a device for establishing character pairs that will facilitate long-term development. that three of the four can be grouped together loosely as romantic arcs doesn't inherently mean anything for the one that isn't; to suggest otherwise is to collapse the differences between arkos / renora / the bees (and also ignore the goliath in the room of arkos not being endgame) and imagine a rule where there just isn't one.

for the sake of completeness i will add that coco/velvet is canon and the CFVY novels make a point of them not being academic partners.

[mephistopheleswasrobbed]

We're at episode eight (two thrirds through already. how?!). It seems my prayers have been answered and after weeks, I was finally not left scrambling to pick up my organs that had fallen out of various orifices at the shock of how the episode ended. (dude, if they had ended the episode with Home flatlining my hair might have spontaneously turned completely gray from stress)

Anyway I'm back to not so seriously tell you about all the things in this episode that reinforced my belief that Home and Peach love each other. Let's go!

1

Home starts crying at the mere mention of Peach's name. With absolutely no alcohol needed to ease the flow of his tears.

2

No one is questioning for a second what/who is motivating Home's ghost into action. Because it's clear to whom his strongest attachment is.

3

The revival ritual call's for something Home loves and the only thing they can come up with is Peach('s cooking).

And Peach is willing to be completely unhinged and illegally cook in a hospital for a chance to get Home back.

And they were right. It works. The smell of Peach's cooking does actually lead Home back to his body. (until the stuggle with security rips the string off Home's finger)

4

Back when Home first stayed over with Peach and Pangpang, he was bickering with Peach over the amount of chillies in Peach's cooking.

And Pangpang filmed them and made ship edits with it. And is now using that to prove to Peach that Home loves his cooking. (And making up quotes to go with it, but Peach was fully ready to believe that Home could have said that and he was flatterd about it too, so.)

5

Of course this is where Home's limbo is. In the place that he claimed for himself, finally made into a proper home by the presence of Peach and Pangpang that's visible all over it.

Grandpa is, aside from Peach, Pangpang and Home, themselves, possibly the only other person who understands just how much they have come to mean to each other. He must be glad that his grandson has finally found his "home".

6

After Home flatlines Peach is sobbing and begging at his bedside clutching his arm. And I'm not saying you wouldn't do that with your friend but this is clearly romance coded. (Are his cries what led Home back to his body in the end, because Peach is something he loves and he's still inside the thread circle and even though the thread isn't attached to his finger anymore maybe it's still working because Peach is surely touching his fingers or maybe it's because of the heart monitor finger clip thingy that's attached at the same side that somehow counts? Who knows. I'm not familiar with the rules of this religious/spiritual practice)

And then Home, who thought that no one would want him alive anyway, walks in and sees Peach begging him to wake up and Pangpang on the floor looking shell shocked and he realises that despite everything he is loved and at the same time it must break his heart to see his family like this because of him.

7

But he eats Peach's food and that brings him back to life and Peach is still holding on to him

So Home can finally do what he's been trying to for the last episodes.

The last thing Home wanted to do before he died, the first thing he does once he's back to life. He finally apologises to Peach. (And I feel a little smug about it because Home waking up with Peach at his bedside and the first thing he says is "I'm sorry" is exactly how I imagined/hoped it would happen and I'm glad I was right)

8

And after he has finally said the words out loud, Peach hugs him and they hug for 24 seconds of showtime but we cut to a new scene before they stop so in the story they probably stayed like that for a long time and eventually Pangpang joined in and their little family was finally back together.

But also the way Peach is holding on to Home like he's never letting him go again and

the hand on the neck?!

the thumb on the ear?! Please, they are so clearly in love with each other.

9

Peach has brought back the "More than friends - less than lovers" shirt to celebrate them getting back together (though he thinks he's sneaky and can hide it with this somewhat out of place looking plaid jaket-shirt-thing) And it's the first time he's worn it in Home's presence (the last time was at the beginning of ep 5 when he had the nightmare about chef hong's death, so only Pangpang saw him in it)

And Peach, for lack of clothing options to signal his feelings, is left to look at Peach with absolute heart eyes.

Lesbian Corner

is still not experiencing an abundance of moments. But it was, of course, Pangpang who noted that another member of their family was still missing.

(And despite their best efforts to cast suspicion onto Kan, I don't think she'd try to kill Home. She did seem worried about him and defended him against the car mechanic. But we'll see next week, I guess)

[cjlouwho]

rules: you will be given a word, then share one sentence or snippet of your wip or wips that start with each letter of the word.

tagged by @livelaughlou 😍 The word is PILOT. Once again, these are all from my kidnapped!Tommy fic

P: "Probably something from breathing in this mold,” Hen concluded. “I'm gonna grab Chim and we'll get you out of here."

I: "I had a quick favor to ask. No cruise ships this time, I promise. So, anyway, just call me back when you can. Thanks, Bud! Bye.”

L: “Let me go,” she said, keeping her eyes on the frail figure in front of her.

O: One time, when Tommy was younger, he was hammering a nail into the wall and accidentally hit his thumb. He remembered the way it throbbed for hours after, swelling and turning red. He thought about how bad it would hurt to actually get hit with one. Shivered at the thought back then.

T: The only thing that made it bearable was watching that spider as it bounced to every drip. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until, even with the man still hovering over him, following the spider's motion helped to ease the pain.

once again, I suck as tagging, but anyone who wants to do this is now tagged! Your word is LOUBS (for Lou boobs- I'm having it added in the dictionary, don't worry)

[downbadf0rficppl]

still be here in the morning?

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

Repost

It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.

You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.

"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.

"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.

"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"

"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."

"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"

"I'm aware."

"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."

"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."

"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"

Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"

You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."

"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."

"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."

After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.

To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.

He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.

A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.

"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.

"What do you want, Mouse?"

"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."

"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.

"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.

"Make me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.

"I said, make me, Lantsov."

"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.

Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.

"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.

"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.

"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."

Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.

"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.

Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."

He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.

He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.

He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."

His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.

Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."

"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.

He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.

Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.

Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.

"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.

Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.

You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.

You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.

Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.

His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.

"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.

"Why would I be mad?"

"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.

"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"

"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.

You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

You shook your head.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded your head.

"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"

You hesitated.

"Well, we've found our problem."

"You don't love me."

"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.

"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."

"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.

You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"

"Honey, you drive me wild."

You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.

You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.

A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."

You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.

fin.

buy me a coffee

[jdorian]

wow okay i say that as someone who ships both couples, but way to take a minority of people and saying that the biggest group should be punished for it and to include everyone together... Especially when these comments on official publications are on insta and twitter, and you're bringing them on tumblr.

It's so funny because every time someone use that argument, all the nasty comments by fans of bucktommy don't seem to matter, and the whole group of fans don't need to be punished because of them.

okay i'm "bringing them to tumblr" by talking about what's going on? by having conversations about what is actually going on? the 1300+ comments that are largely just saying "buddie canon" (which fair enough who cares) and "tommy dead september 24" "hope he dies and gets stung" "hope he gets shot" and so on and so forth... like you can say it's a minority of the fandom, but they are loud as fuck for sure.

and yeah, i said what i said. i don't want dickish little children thinking that this behaviour will get them what they want, that being homophobic and a bully over a fucking fictional character who for all we know might be like in 4 episodes next season? or none? or just who really cares, cuz he's still not fucking real.

like yeah, if you don't want the majority to be "punished" because of their behaviour, then maybe call it out? not just dismiss it with whataboutism of how "well the bucktommys said mean things too" and "well we used to be misogynistic towards LIs before, so we can be homophobic to LIs now" as some people have recently tried to.

i'm sure they did say mean things. and i probably blocked them for it too. though, talk about minorities...

anyway. maybe a good rule of thumb would be to 1) call out shitty people regardless of which fictional men they wanna see date each other and 2) understand what the conversation is actually about; which in this case is me saying that it's a shame this behaviour is happening and my personal wish is that it's being nipped in the bud and not be rewarded.

cuz i genuinely care more about the show and shitty people getting their karma, than who Evan Buckley is fucking, respectively.

[catiecat1320]

Sonadowtober Prompt 28: Enemies

Rule #1 of being an assassin: Never let your feelings get in the way

I'd say this is for one of my AUs, but in reality the AU didn't exist before I laid my eyes on this prompt Anyway. Welcome to We Dance in Death

Read Below🔽

It’s quiet out.

For once Shadow wishes it wasn’t, that there was someone outside at this ungodly hour to force him to turn back, reconsider. But there’s nothing but the buzz of adrenaline in the back of his head, the cold decision settling in his heart, and whispers of doubt that he pushes away.

He has to.

Yet when he looks up at the silhouette backlit by the beaming moon, those stunning emerald eyes turn to focus on him and he can’t help but stutter.

Does he really?

Sonic breaks through the quiet, taking with him the opportunity to turn and run. “There you are.”

Shadow nods once, a small gesture that would’ve been missed by anyone less attentive. He scales the building with practiced agility, landing on the rooftop at the other’s side. “There I am,” he whispers. 

“Something wrong?”

Shadow tenses, stopping himself just short of cursing under his breath. Damn Sonic and his piercing intuition. Denying such would only raise alarms, now. He could lie, but they know each other too well for it to pass.

“Hey.” A gentle hand laid on his arm, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked over at the other hedgehog, met with an expression that squeezed his heart.

Trust.

“What’s bothering you?” Sonic murmurs, thumb rubbing soothing circles on Shadow’s shoulder. “Did something happen?”

“...Yes.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He sucked in a breath, shoving down the urge to run away and never turn back. Tonight, he had a mission. It was now or never. “Sonic… you have a sibling, right?”

“Yeah. Well, he’s close enough to a brother, yeah. Why do you ask?”

Shadow paused, using his free hand to comb through his striped quills. Deep breaths. He could feel those sharp green eyes dissect him, drawing information from every little movement. It takes but a moment for Sonic to work it out.

“Do you?” 

Two words that hide understanding. Sonic reaches up, taking Shadow’s other hand, lacing their fingers together. Their black gloves are thin enough that they can feel each other’s heartbeat in their palms, one racing with anxiety, the other calm and steady.

Shadow swallows, forcing himself to get a grip, hopefully slowing the rapid drumming in his chest. “She… she’s ill,” he breathes.

The other hums thoughtfully. “Is she being treated?”

“Yes. But…” A beat of silence. “I want to ask you a question.”

Sonic cocked his head curiously. “Shoot.”

Shadow nods. “I… I don’t know your brother. But I assume you care deeply for each other.”

“Mhm. I’m not hearing a question.”

“Shush. Please.” Blood red meets emerald as Shadow brings his gaze up. He can only guess how much emotion his eyes betray, how much desperation the other can see. But he has a pretty good idea from the way Sonic shuts his mouth, face twitching with barely concealed concern. “...How far would you go?”

“For him? I’d do anything.”

“Anything?”

Sonic narrows his eyes. He’s catching on, that stupid trust the only thing stopping things from clicking too soon. “Anything,” he repeats. “Where is this coming from?”

“So you’d understand,” Shadow whispers, dodging the question. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Sonic takes a step back, but it fails to bring him away from what he’s slowly recognizing as danger. For their hands are still linked, tight, and like a grounded ship he’s stuck.

It happened so fast. Years of experience poured into making this as quick and mindless as possible, for if any hesitation bled through, this wouldn’t have worked. Shadow hooked his free arm around the other’s waist and pulled their bodies flush. As he plants a bittersweet kiss on those peach lips, he frees his knife and plunges it into Sonic’s back.

To his due credit, Sonic didn’t scream. Didn’t cry as the blade sank in as far as it could go, its tip breaking through his front and piercing a hole in his shirt. Didn’t make a single noise as his emerald eyes dilated in shock, in pain, in betrayal.

Shadow yanks the knife out and lets go of Sonic. Their intertwined hands come apart as he steps away. He attempts, in vain, to feign apathy as his newest victim collapses to his hands and knees, gasping as blood spills from his wound and collects in a puddle beneath him.

The offending weapon gleams under the moon before being concealed once more by its owner. Shadow spares one last glance at Sonic’s trembling form and turns on his heel, jumping a rooftop over. The rift between them makes him feel slightly better— there was no turning back now. There was nothing to do but report the death and claim his reward.

“Bastard.” 

Shadow froze. He can feel those emerald eyes on his back, as if they could mar it with that piercing stare alone.

“You—” Sonic’s cut off by a cough, no doubt laden with blood. “You. At least… at least kill me properly.”

There’s a suffocating silence, and Shadow thinks they come to the same conclusion.

He can’t.

“Shadow Robotnik. Look me in the eyes.” Sonic chokes out. By the quality of his voice, speaking hurts. He’s suffering. Yet he continues when he gets no response. “You coward. Look me in the eyes and finish the job.”

Shadow walks away. 

He does not look back.

[cataclysmiceuphemism]

@music-is-our-nirvana

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss "number 26…as an apology."

Torksmith

Mike had never been someone to ask for permission. Peter had known, hated, and respected that in different measures since they'd first met. So it was possible that he should have expected it when Mike said, "I got Chip Douglas on board. He's going to be our new producer."

Davy didn't have much opinion on him at all— a producer was a producer, a songwriter was a songwriter. The product mattered more than the name.

"Yeah? That's great, Mike!" Micky said, "Tad says he's fun to work with. Nice guy."

"How many songs has he produced? How many albums?" Peter asked. He had a tone he couldn't help, was barely even aware of, plaintive anger and hurt and desperation. A tone that made Micky and Davy become bystanders, eyes going from Peter and traveling over to Mike like they'd watched a tennis player smash a ball across the net.

Mike cocked his hip, hooked his thumb in his belt loop. Tipped his head and smirked. "Same number as Steve Stills, good buddy."

Mike wasn't just saying 'none'.

He knew. That was the God-damned thing. Peter had said in conversation, in passing, that he'd like to have Stephen Stills brought in as producer on their new songs, now that they had a say in it all. Because he liked and respected Stephen and Buffalo Springfield. The part he hadn't said, but expected Mike to know, deep down in his heart expected them all to know whether he said it or not, was that Micky and Davy and Mike had all gotten something thrown in to match their interests in music. The folksy music of Buffalo Springfield and Greenwich village hadn't been there at all, and it had seemed a ripe opportunity to get his own sound edged in. That was another thing he should have expected. That Mike would know his desire and edge him right back out. Peter could feel his face get hot, red, fire across the edges of his ears, right across his cheeks.

"Seems to me," Peter said, "If the goal is authenticity in our artistic expression, we should all have had a say."

"Seems to me sour grapes make whine," Mike returned.

Peter turned left. He walked and kept walking. And he thought, bitterly, that this was giving Mike exactly what he wanted. That Mike had been goading him to leave. Had been saying 'Go on, then, get.' But Mike's eyes went just a little wider when Peter turned around, because Peter rarely ever gave Mike what he was needling after and this was no exception to the rule. It was just that, even if Peter had seen the expression Mike had given his turned back, Peter wouldn't have understood it.

Mike was still the first one of the guys to turn up on his doorstep some hours later. The funny thing of it was that Mike often didn't understand when he wasn't welcome and would turn up anyway. The funnier thing of it was that Mike said, "Going to kick me back to the curb?" because he expected it this time around, but wasn't unwelcome at all.

"No," Peter said, "My house is always open, Michael, you know that."

"That's how you get mice," Mike said, but he stepped on inside. A pause and he said, "Rats, too." And Peter guessed Mike was talking about himself, but wasn't so certain that he could say a word on it; thought if he did that Mike would nail him for making the assumption.

Peter shut the door and found he was following rather than leading the walk to his living room. They both sat on the couch. Mike took a drink from Peter's half-drunk beer on the coffee table. Peter followed it with a drink of his own.

"Chip quit The Turtles. Can't very well go back on our word now."

"Your word," Peter said. But a beat later he said, "Chip's not the point."

"I heard you. You were heard," Mike said. And he meant he'd heard the things Peter hadn't said, too. He turned his head. Turned his body, and Peter mirrored the action. Mike's hand found Peter's cheek, soft. His lips met Peter's even softer. There was more tenderness in his action than the words. There always was, and Peter always found himself making room for it. But when they parted, the words had lost their edge, too. "You'll be heard."

[cyberdragoninfinity]

Okay I know I was just here with III but I just got absolutely sledgehammered by the Arc-V ending (WTF) (Shun deserved better) so uh. Thoughts on Shun Kurosaki?

AHHAHAHAHA GOD. IM SO SORRY. IT'S. ROUGH. STAY STRONG MY FRIEND i would love to talk about shunshay kurosakiobsidian tho!

Why I like them/why I don’t: BIRD AUTISM IS SO COOOOOL I love that he's just so absurdly serious in a frequently deeply goofy yugioh, like GIVEN HIS SITUATION IT MAKES A LOT OF SENSE but it's still so funny. guy who takes it up to an 11 when most situations really need maybe only a 5. his dub voice rules also he's got the zane thing where he's either muttering angrily or SCREAMING and i always love that sort of vocal performance hehehe. also lbr raidraptors are just so fucking cool. just a guy and his 3892893435 bigger and bigger birds that are guns. i also need to be real shay is one of those yugioh characters where i decided they were a butch lesbian in my brain and my enjoyment of them just shot right through the roof. transfem shay youre so real to me. thumbs up

What I like about their appearance: AGAIN ARC V CHARACTER COLOR PALETTES JUST RULE SO HARD the different shades of teal in his hair, the pop of red in his bandana, that deep indigo of his trench coat...it's such a good palette he has a very striking design.

Do I prefer their dub names or original names? i incline towards shay more but shun has grown on me more over tim... im starting to do the ryozane thing where i just jam both names together sometimes lol.... i think i like obsidian as a surname more than kurosaki though

OTP: im an aro lesbian shayshun truther and i dont really have any ships for him im like frothing TOO too much at the mouth about...i do like the idea of crow/shay especially as a butch birder4butch birder thing though

NOTP: shay/dennis is like..... man i Like a good enemies to lovers but this one doesnt feel great to me. the optics on 'guy who lost everything in a horrific war crime' x 'guy who gave the ok for that war crime to happen' are kind of. not great. not my favorite. idk. also thats a dyke and a gay man to me but ANYWAY

OT3: this is absolutely not the romantic sense of 'ot3' but i do love the xyz trio so much. characters who deserve the goddamn world

Favourite card they use: i do love satellite cannon falcon. world's most absolutely unnecessary gigantic robot bird thats also a gun that has to literally leave the atmosphere to attack. insane. i love yugioh.

Favourite moment they were in: yeah on that note it's the shay/dennis friendship cup duel. he fucking blew that twink up with his giant space falcon and also the entire stadium too and he probably would have beat dennis to death with his bare hands if he didnt get stopped. and it KICKED ASS.

Least favourite moment: LITERALLY THOUGH LIKE. WHY DID THEY DO THAT TO SHUN IN THE LAST LIKE 4 EPISODES OF THE SERIES...... why did they make him just effectively lie down and take that absolute dogshit hand they dealt him for no fucking reason. his best friend and his sister are effectively dead. but la la la yuya beat him so it's fine :^) WHY COULDNT HE HAVE DUELED YUTO...HE WAS THERE.. IN YUYA'S BRAIN...WOULDVE BEEN NICE. 8| GOD.

Something I associate with them: this onion headline

[ryn-loves-cheese]

Hi! ৻(•̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)⊹｡ Welcome to my tumblr page! I’m Ryn I go by they/them! And I’m pansexual/demiromantic

fandoms I draw for:

•demon slayer

•jujutsu Kaisen

•spyxfamily

•sk8 infinity

•Tokyo revengers(haven’t finished the show yet)

•httyd

•the owl house

•mincraft

•the Magnus archives(haven’t finished the podcast yet)

•DND

•hazbin hotel

•sky: children of light

•Ramshackle

•bungo stray dogs

•Sanrio

•Luigi’s mansion

•Pokémon

•Kirby

•Arcane

•splatoon

•doctor who

•the apocathary diaries (haven’t finished the show yet)

•yaeklore

•castle

•house MD

•bones

•gravity falls

•the outsiders

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN, no ocs right now sorry]

☀️I TAKE ART REQUESTS☀️I can’t promise I’ll get to them but if you have any do send bc my ass always has art block- ill be doing two at a time at most

I will draw your ocs or any characters I’m okay with ships but i can say no if I’m uncomfortable with the ship that also goes for any other drawing I can refuse if I’m uncomfortable

Things I’m ok with:

oc x oc

oc x canon character (no minor x adults)

Canon character x canon character (DEPENDING ON THE SHIP)

Chibi characters

Regular animals: parrots, cats, dogs, lizards, snakes, fish, tigers, chickens, anything like that

food

mild gore or candy gore

any of the things on that list I will draw :]

Things I’M NOT OKAY with drawing! You will be blocked if you ask for some of these things! (Also this is a DNI list for some things):

proshipping(minor x adult) -immediate block don’t bother following me

racist or homophobic or transphobic don’t follow me istg

NSFW

heavy and graphic gore

Anthro/furries (i don’t have a issue with them i just don’t know how to draw them)

mechanical or mecha stuff (idk how to draw this)

any depiction of ‘Yandere’ or unhealthy toxic relationships that shits not welcome here

‼️this should also be clarified i will NOT draw ANY nsfw or suggestive material i may make jokes but don’t ask it of me i don’t mind blogs with mildly suggestive material follow me along as its not straight up nsfw. I’ve seen a few blogs like that follow me but general rule of thumb here DNI if you are a blog that has graphic nsfw art or material it’s just weird I’m a minor it’s not hard to understand you’ll be blocked :3 Ty for reading‼️

this is my oc ryn!

my moots/freinds :]

@bin-s0 (lovely artist and very sweet :] and my bf they are literally one of my favourite people 🩷🩷🩷)

@boo-simplified (also a banger artist and a very wonderful friend i know them irl and they are so goddamn nice✨)

@mercurymaceo ( EDIBLE ART. Need I say more! And a very close friend ⭐️✨)

@kimetsu-chan (LITERALLY SO SWEET OMG 💖💖very pretty art and a good writer)

@thesilliersakura (ART IS VERY SILLY AND ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS and very silly freind)

@swisscheeselovers-blog (he is another close irl friend of mine dose some silly doodles once and a while. SO FUNNY ONG very goofy and silly friend 🫶💖)

@shycroissanti (some more edible art has one of the silliest ocs ever and is so nice!)

@clownpalette (ART IS SO SILLY AND CUTE!!!)

@aceofstars0 (so sweet makes some SCRUMPTIOUS ART- I wanna eat it please follow them :] )

@rion-isnot-an-ai (yet another underrated artist who is also very nice! Makes lovely art!)

@silas-png (bro im bouta eat your art if you’re not careful THE RENDERING THEY DO IS JUST 😭💖✨🤌)

@pearlymoonn (OMG they are so nice iv spoke with them before and they’re lovely fncndhshchvu they make very cute art!)

@scrimblyscrorblo (very silly doodles iv spoken with them a couple of times and i absolutely adore they’re art its so goofy and cute and are also very nice 🫶)

@delirious-dan (THE ART <3 so good and they are very silly and cool)

ANYWAY VERY SILLY MOOTS GO FOLLOW EM :D

thanks for reading and welcome to my blog :]

divider creds to:

@cafekitsune

my art tag is #Ryn’s art 💜